WILD ENGLISH CATTLE.  
We have a few herds of the original cattle which once abounded in England and Scotland, still remaining. We have long ago destroyed our wolves, bears, and boars; and it seems almost a miracle that a few of these inhabitants of our ancient forests have been preserved. They form the most interesting objects of those parts of the country where they exist. Every one knows the use Scott has made of them in the Bride of Lammermuir. There was formerly a fine herd of them at Drumlanrig in Scotland. In England they were to be found at Burton-Constable in Yorkshire; Wollaton near Nottingham; Gisburne in Craven; Lime-Hall in Cheshire; Chartley Castle in Staffordshire; and Chillingham Castle in Northumberland. That they were of the true old breed was sufficiently testified by their common resemblance; being[396] universally milk-white; having only the tips of their horns, and their muzzles and ears coloured. The only difference was, that in some herds, the tips and the whole of the inside of the ears, were black, in others red or brown. What may be the numbers remaining at Lime or Gisburne, I do not know. At Wollaton they have become mixed with the common breed; but at Chartley there are about twenty of them, where they retain their ancient characteristics, and their wildness. Here, there are sundry superstitions connected with them. It is believed and asserted, that if they amount to more than a certain number, or if a calf of an unusual colour is produced, some calamity happens in the family of the noble owner, Earl Ferrers. This, it is asserted, was the case when one of the earls was executed; and indeed, that every family calamity has been thus prognosticated.
The noblest herd is to be found at Chillingham Castle, on the Northumbrian borders, the seat of the Earl of Tankerville. The park is well calculated for the use of such animals. It lies in a solitary country. Care seems taken to render the isolation as complete as possible;—there is not even a public-house permitted by his lordship in the small hamlet, which seems to exist just as the ancient, dependent hamlet of the feudal castle did in the feudal times themselves. The castle, a fine fabric, in true castellated style, and well befitting the classic land of Northumberland—the region of Alnwick, Warkworth, and Chevy-Chace—of the skirmishes of Douglas and Percy—of many an ancient cross, convent, battle-stone, and hermit-cell, lies embosomed in its woods at the foot of wild hills, which ascend eastward for a mile or more, and terminate in a range of bare and craggy eminences of a fine woodland character. This steep slope between the castle and these heights is the park. Various woods and deep dells are scattered over it, so that the cattle can choose a high and airy pasture between them, where they see afar off any approach—a situation they seem particularly to enjoy; or can, at the slightest alarm, plunge into the depth of woods and glens.
Bewick, who visited them, has given capital portraits of this interesting race of cattle, and the following passages from his account of them are marked by his usual accuracy. “At the first appearance of any person, they set off in full gallop, and at the[397] distance of two or three hundred yards make a wheel round, and come boldly up again, tossing their heads in a menacing manner. On a sudden they make a full stop at the distance of forty or fifty yards, looking wildly at the objects of their surprise; but on the least motion being made, they all again turn round, and run off with equal speed, but not to the same distance: forming a shorter circle, and again returning with a bolder and more threatening aspect than before, they approach much nearer, probably within thirty yards; when they make another stand, and again run off. This they do several times, shortening their distance, and advancing nearer, till they come within ten yards; when most people think it prudent to leave them, not choosing to provoke them further; for there is little doubt but in two or three times more they would make an attack.
“The mode of killing them was, perhaps, the only modern remains of the grandeur of ancient hunting. On notice being given that a wild bull would be killed on a certain day, the inhabitants of the neighbourhood came mounted and armed with guns, etc., sometimes to the amount of a hundred horse, and four or five hundred foot, who stood upon walls or got into trees, while the horsemen rode out the bull from the rest of the herd, until he stood at bay; when a marksman dismounted and shot. At some of these huntings twenty or thirty of these shots have been fired before he was subdued. On such occasions the bleeding victim grew desperately furious, from the smarting of his wounds, and the shouts of savage joy that were echoing from every side; but, from the number of accidents that happened, this dangerous mode has been little practised of late years; the park-keeper alone generally shooting them with a rifled gun, at one shot.
“When the cows calve, they hide their calves for a week or ten days, in some sequestered situation, and go and suckle them two or three times a-day. If any person come near the calves, they clap their heads close to the ground, and lie like a hare in form to hide themselves. This is a proof of their native wildness, and is corroborated by the following circumstance, that happened to the writer of this narrative, who found a hidden calf of two days old, very lean and very weak. On stroking its head, it got up,[398] pawed two or three times like an old bull, bellowed very loud, stepped back a few steps, and bolted at his legs with all his force. It then began to paw again, bellowed, stepped back, and bolted as before; but knowing its intention, he stepped aside, and it missed him, fell, and was so very weak, that it could not rise, though it made several efforts. But it had done enough: the whole herd was alarmed, and coming to its rescue, obliged him to retire; for the dams will allow no person to touch their calves, without attacking them with impetuous ferocity.
“When any one happens to be wounded, or is grown feeble through age or sickness, the rest of the herd set upon it and gore it to death.
“The weight of the bulls is generally from forty to fifty stone the four quarters; of the cows about thirty. The beef is finely marbled, and of excellent flavour.”
We visited the park in 1836, and were at great pains to get a sight of this noble herd. We were told that the keepe............